


field medicine

by caramelize



Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 18:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18103826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caramelize/pseuds/caramelize
Summary: After being seriously injured and separated from the rest of the crew on a mission, Siete is left to await for rescue and get patched up by Six, who is definitely, absolutely not worried in the least





	field medicine

**Author's Note:**

> I had to ask people "do erunes' ears emote in canon?" and no one could tell me the answer, so now they do. If I turn out to be wrong, then canon sucks because my way is cuter. Enjoy!

Strangely, there was a lot one could notice in the bare second they were suspended in the air after being knocked off a ledge. For instance, Siete could pick out the look of shock plain on Esser’s face, and the way it had started to dawn on the captain’s. He could see the mechanical monster’s reflective shield ripple rainbow for a flash. He _thought_ he could hear someone shouting his name, and that someone might have sounded a little, tiny bit like Six, but that was in the same moment time reanimated itself and he hit the steep slope of the gorge, which knocked the notion out of his head same as it knocked the air out of his lungs. 

The impact felt like it scrambled everything in him, his brain, his organs, how his tendons and nerves worked, but long-ingrained instinct somehow gave him the wherewithal to jam his sword into the ground to slow his momentum. It worked, at least until he lost his grip on the hilt when his leg clipped a rock hard enough to send it snapping, white-hot pain flaring all the way up to his hip, and he tumbled the rest of the way to the bottom, ending up on his back to blink up at a thick canopy of trees waving in the wind and the deep gray stormcloud sky between the leaves.

His vision tilted at the edges. He should get up. Even with the bruises, and the dizziness. There was a reason he should get up, but that reason kept slipping out of his hands, a minnow in a river’s shallows. His leg throbbed hot and cold at the same time, filled with a needling pain down the length of it, like it had just fallen asleep but shaper, holding the threat of further agony if jostled. Was that sound in his ears his blood rushing through, or his own labored breathing? 

“Siete.” There was his name, again. Maybe he was hearing it in the patter of the rain starting to fall, or hearing rain in the patter of footsteps. Footsteps in the sound of his name. “Siete! Why aren’t you moving? Can you even hear me?” 

“What?” Squinting, Siete finally turned his head to see a pair of feet, and then knees, and finally Six’s face—or rather, the mask over his face—as he leaned into Siete’s field of vision, kneeling beside him. “Six?” 

“Where are you injured?” 

“I hit my head.” Slowly, Siete blinked up at him, picking up the _obviously_ hanging in the other’s silence as sure and clear as if Six actually said it. “And my leg’s broken. Left. I don’t—I can’t tell anything else? Am I bleeding, or is that the rain?” 

“Stay there.” Instead of answering, Six stood, and swiftly disappeared into the thick of the forest, hidden in the shadowed places between the trunks. Siete almost wanted to call after him, ask what he planned on doing, but he was back nearly as soon as he left, with two long, thin branches clutched in one hand and his cape in the other. Without the hood, his Erune ears were exposed, and Siete was momentarily transfixed at the way the rain dripped off the tips of them. 

“Can you get my sword?” he asked when Six kneeled down on the ground next to him again, this time more towards his thigh than his shoulders. 

“Your…sword?” 

“I used it to try and stop myself rolling down that ravine but I lost my grip. It’s stuck somewhere up there, and I kind of feel naked without it, you know!” He laughed, but that ended up being too much, and his voice caught on a gasp of pain on the third ha. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought Six might be frowning as he tipped his head up, presumably looking at Siete’s face, and then towards the incline. He said nothing if he spotted the sword, only tore part of his cape into little ribbons of cloth, dexterous and neat. 

“This is going to hurt.” With an incisive jerk of his wrist, Six tugged the final bit of fabric free and felt his hands along Siete’s leg. Just that much pressure had a cold sweat breaking out at Siete’s temples from the pain, a jolt of it, searing and bright and sudden. “Brace yourself.”

The warning came only a bare breath before Six splinted his leg with ruthless efficiency, setting the sticks on either side and tying the cloth snugly around them at Siete’s thigh, then above his knee and below, and finally his ankle. The worst came at the last knot, the splint straightening the break into place somewhere along his shin, and Siete wasn’t quick enough to bite back all of the noise he made, half of something thready and wounded escaping him before he snapped his mouth shut, teeth grinding together until he wondered if he’d crack his molars the same way he’d cracked his leg. Six’s ear twitched. 

“Your bedside manner is awful, Six.” His voice wavered, as pale and nauseous as he felt, but after swallowing, he tried again. “Not even a kiss to make the pain fly, fly away?” 

“Sit up.” The world spun and spun and spun when Six hauled him upright, to the point Siete thought he might tip back over face-first into the ground. The rain felt better on the back of his neck, though, washing away some of the clamminess and grime, and by the time the horizon was straight in his vision again, he felt marginally more like himself, marginally more able to string thoughts together properly. 

There was a tug to his belt, and he looked over to see Six beside him, slipping a sword back into its scabbard at Siete’s waist. He must have gone to fetch it when Siete was trying not to pass out in that moment, and maybe Siete hadn’t recovered as much as he’d originally estimated, because to him it seemed as though Six’s hands were trembling as he worked. Like he was upset. Before he could ask about it, his arm was pulled around Six’s shoulders and he was heaved to his feet, supported mostly by Six’s strength and weight. 

“Ah—even with you patching me up, I don’t think we can make it to the top of that cliff like this.” 

“We’re not,” Six said, starting to make a slow, hobbling way towards the trees. “We’re just going a little bit into the woods. Keep out of the rain, put a signal up, and wait for the captain.” 

“She went to get the Grancypher?” He felt Six nod against him more than he saw it, the tip of the other’s furred ear brushing the edge of his jaw, and maybe there was something wrong about enjoying the contact, but considering he’d just gotten thrown off a cliff by a reflection shield launching his own attacks back at him, Siete figured he deserved to derive a little comfort from Six’s warmth pressed along his side. “Did she at least get the item she wanted?” 

“What?” 

“The item. The whole thing we came out here to get. The captain said that monster has some rare jewel or stone or other she wanted. Did she get it?” 

“Why in all the skies are you worried about something like that right now?” They’d stopped underneath a tall, old tree with long branches and wide leaves, the ground and moss underneath it drier than the rest of the forest path. Six shrugged Siete’s arm off his shoulders and lowered him to rest against the trunk, before leaping up into the branches. Siete craned his neck to try and watch what Six was doing, but all he saw were some leaves being shaken loose, and between one blink and the next, Six was settled beside him again, sans cape entirely. He must have used it as the signal at the top of the tree, the red of the inner lining eye-catching to anyone watching from the Grancypher’s deck.

“I’m making conversation. To pass the time while we wait.” There was no rebuttal in the pause where he took a breath, which made him glance over to see if Six had changed his mind and decided to wait in the branches to see the Grancypher coming, but Siete only met the red lenses of Six’s mask, only watched Six watch him back, like the other was waiting for something. “This is usually the part where you tell me to shut up.” 

“The only time your non-stop, idiotic chattering is worth anything is to check you’re not going into shock.” He folded his arms, and leaned back further against the trunk. “So talk, or otherwise I’ll jab a bruise to wake you up.” 

“Where should I begin? Maybe how I never get to see your ears like this. They’re very cute, you kn--ow.” Six dug two of his knuckles into a bruise on Siete’s arm anyway, the ache echoing for minutes afterwards, minutes where Siete listened to the rain pattering on the leaves of the trees, the soft, earthy smell in the air. His leg still throbbed and the back of his head probably had a lump, but Six, even sitting a distance away, was still warm too. A little strange, considering his personality. “…then how about that I’m glad you came after me. I didn’t say thanks for that yet, did I?” 

“Don’t.” Six’s head inclined, incrementally. He was looking away, he must be. “The captain would have been even more worried if you were all alone. I could traverse that incline better than anyone else, so I went.” 

“Thank you, anyway. For the captain’s sake. _I_ don’t want her upset, either!” The only response he received was a noncommittal sound, and Six turning his head away entirely. “Oh, but this reminds me of a mission I went on once. So Siero had been talking up the treasures on this one island for weeks and weeks, only no one was having any luck finding this supposedly magic fruit…” 

He talked and talked, about that mission, about how that fruit wasn’t magical at all, but just made _really_ good wine, and maybe they should ask Siero if she had any more bottles after this, talked until the exhaustion and adrenaline crash caught up with him and all his words were trailing off, until there was the low hum of an airship above them, and Six darted out from under the tree. 

Funf must have had a healing spell halfway off the gangplank, because it hit before he could see her, all the aches and pain alleviating moments before she crashed into his side, followed by the captain rushing up breathlessly, pushing hair out of her eyes as she peered down at him with open concern.

“You’re all right? When I saw you just plummet off that cliff I was—” She heaved out a heavy, relieved sigh before whirling back around, shouting at the retreating figure of Six heading towards the ship. “Six! Don’t run off without saying anything again!” 

“Again?” 

“He took off after you before I even knew what happened,” the captain said, reaching down to help Siete back onto his feet. Funf still clung to his side tightly, and he put a hand on her back to keep her there. “Let’s get back onto the ship and get you checked over properly. I’ll even bully Sandalphon into making you a drink.” 

“I’d say I should nearly die more often if I get the star treatment, but that’s mean when you were all so worried.” The captain gave him an incredulous, exasperated look that lingered even after he assured her he was totally and completely joking. 

And he was joking, really, because he was already thinking about needing to visit Six’s room’s later, with that coffee in tow, to let the other see he was perfectly fine. Or hold his hands, if they were still shaking.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [The Winding Road Home](https://twitter.com/gbf76zine) zine. It was a ton of fun! Please go check out all the other super talented artists and writers who participated. You'll get so much delicious 76 food, I promise. 
> 
> Say hello over on twitter @magicocona if you're so inclined. Thanks for reading, and until next time!


End file.
